Whoa...that is the most reviews-twenty-one-that I have ever gotten after updating. Wow. Keep it up, guys! XD And is it just me, or did less regular reviewers review and more anonymous, (newer) people review? ;-; From now on, anonymous reviewers: If you haven't already, please call yourself something other than Guest, because otherwise it just gets too confusing with multiple Guests. DX
Replies to anonymous reviews:
Moonlight141: Well, thanks for your preview of your fanfic...? :P Yep, you were right, Tigerpaw was the brown blur! And no, I haven't heard of Sparrowflight77, if you mean "who." I tried to find her on FFN, but I couldn't. Thank you for all your reviews! :)
Guest: Thanks! :D
Heartbroken: By "switched around the original form of 3rd person to 1st person in this book," do you mean that you've read my other fic, and saw that it was in past tense? Because I'm pretty sure that third person wasn't created earlier than first person point-of-view. I don't know. :P Ah, about your comment about the beginning: It's supposed to be a reflection coming from Amberpaw on the situation with her father; she's not really anywhere except for in her own head, I guess. :P Does that make sense? And don't worry, I welcome constructive criticism. I can take negative comments about my work as long as they're justified and I can see what they're talking about.
Ooh, that's cool. I'm sure you'll love having an account as much as I do. X3 Just click "Sign Up" and put in your email, chosen username, and password. You are thirteen, right? ;P After you register, an email should be sent to your account from them and you can click on it to verify the account and use it. Send me a PM once you've registered! ^^
Guest: I'm not sure if you're the same person as the other Guest, but I will! ^^
:D: Lol. XD
Lydia: Wow, really? Thanks! :3
Guest: I'm not sure if you're one of the first two Guests or both, but I don't think you are, since you used capitalization. ;P And thank you; I will! :)
Hulkiberry: Glad to hear it! :D
Chapter 17: Visit
"Cloudpaw, your punishment will start tomorrow and is to help Whispersong with her herbs for the next quartermoon," Branchstar intones seriously. The white she-cat looks disgruntled and twitches her ears in dislike, but wisely keeps quiet in the presence of the brown leader.
Then he turns to me. I lift my head and look just past Branchstar's face, but I quickly turn my eyes to his face, startled, when he says, "Amberpaw, your punishment is to clean the elders of their ticks for the next quartermoon, starting tomorrow."
My eyes widen in amusement and I have to keep a mrrow of amusement from escaping. It's ironic; it really is. But I'm not about to tell Branchstar that.
"You are dismissed," Branchstar says, and I move to scramble out of the den.
Some cat has brought the vole into the den; I find this out as I nearly trip over it at the mouth of the cave and send it flying into the sunlight, where I can see what it is. Whether it was an attempt to be helpful or a sneer, I don't know. The vole's dusty from when I dropped it, so I eat it and pick up a bird for Mousetail.
As I step into the dark elders' den, a voice says, "So, I heard you gave Cloudpaw a few scratches."
I drop the bird in front of the speaker. "Yes, I did. But I can explain. You see, she insulted—"
"No need." Her tone is warm, tinged with fondness. An orange paw reaches into the pool of light I've set the bird in and draws it back toward her. Green eyes glint with obvious amusement as Mousetail leans forward. "I heard it."
"Every single bit?"
"Yep. I imagine even the other Clans heard it. They'll know to watch out for you in battle," she teases.
I purr, relieved that I've gotten off so easily, both with Branchstar and Mousetail. I honestly expected something much harsher than having to rid the elders of their ticks, but perhaps Branchstar remembers something from his apprentice days. I know I'll have to face Falconflight and Cloudpaw later, and I'm not looking forward to it, but the aftermath is not as harsh as I've expected.
It turns out, though, that I've forgotten about Treefall.
"Mousebrained apprentices," the cantankerous old tom mutters from his corner. "Troublemakers, every single one of them."
My spine stiffens even though I have a hunch that he doesn't really mean it, but I won't call him out on it. I'll just get a hiss for my trouble.
But Mousetail doesn't have any qualms about that.
"If I remember correctly, Treefall, you had the record for the most visits to the leader in our time," she says, ears twitching. "In fact, I cannot recall a single cat who has a higher number than you for having to go to the leader's den when you're not the deputy or medicine cat."
The only answer to that is a noncommittal grunt.
"Denial," Mousetail whispers right next to my ear, and we crack up laughing.
"I can see that I'm not needed here," Treefall says with a huff. "Well, I suppose I'll go outside and get some sunshine."
I look out into the camp. "It's not very sunny today," I point out.
He heaves a great sigh. "Fine, I'll go and freeze my whiskers off. Happy?" Without waiting for a reply, he lurches to his feet and goes outside. A thump is heard, and a flurry of snow flies up. Then, a grunt that I can't interpret follows. He must be sitting right outside the elders' den. Good enough, I suppose.
Mousetail has begun to eat the bird. I watch her for a few seconds, not wanting to disturb her, but needing to ask her something all the same. While I was cooped up in the medicine cat's den for those last few days, I had a lot of time on my paws, and my mind didn't seem inclined to let me simply rest. She seems to pick up on this, glancing up curiously at me as she chews, and finishes the fresh-kill in a very short time. "Something on your mind?"
"I…," I begin hesitantly. "I want to know about the night of my birth."
There. It's out.
I've never asked Brightsky about it, because it seems too intimate, even between a queen and her foster kit. Also, as she was also giving birth on the same night, she probably hadn't concentrated on anything besides getting her litter safely out in the world and wouldn't know too much about what happened. And perhaps, I never had the courage to ask.
Mousetail tilts her head and cleans her whiskers, giving me a questioningly look but not voicing her puzzlement, which I am thankful for. And then, after closing her eyes and opening them again after a few thudding heartbeats, she takes a deep breath and begins.
"You were born on the tail end of newleaf," she says. "And even though the leaves had yet to change color, that day was as cold as the windiest day in leaf-bare; it was as if the sun had been snuffed out. I nearly froze my fur off that night. But the funny thing is, is that after you were born, it turned warm again, as hot and humid as ever.
"Your mother had been sick for a moon. We were worried that she wouldn't make it, that she wouldn't survive the process of giving birth, but she reassured us that she would." The orange she-cat's green eyes fog over for a few moments, lost in memory. "She promised."
My breath catches in my throat.
"But when the time came, it was clear that no matter how strong Blazepelt thought she was things were not going to end well. A quarter-moon before Whispersong thought Blazepelt was going to give birth, the contractions began. Your father was frantic with worry, and Whispersong had to push him out of the den many times. The sun set and rose, without any success but with tons of blood. I know, because I myself was there, watching, and waiting." Mousetail's next sentence comes out tinged with a bit of pride, if I'm not mistaken. "I sneaked in and stayed quiet and wasn't any bother, so Whispersong didn't force me out. Besides, I would have put up more protest than Birchstep ever will in his entire life if someone had tried to kick me out.
"At last Whispersong yowled that there was success. A small bundle of fur had made it through. A tom. Ashpaw. We broke the bag quickly and licked him until he was dry, as the second kit was coming. This kit was another scrap of gray fur, and Swallowpaw tore open the bag and made sure she was dry. At this point, Birchstep poked his head in and refused to be moved. This time we let him, because the birth was almost over. Your father asked what the two kits' names were, and Blazepelt told him that he could name them. Within a few heartbeats, the tom became Ashkit and the she-kit became Lilackit.
"But now, it was becoming difficult. With every regular contraction, and a few irregular ones, hacking coughs shook Blazepelt's body. She refused the catmint offered to her, saying that it would soon be over and that the herb could be used for other sick cats in leafbare. The last kit was turned around the wrong way, and Blazepelt was losing strength.
"When you finally came out, you weren't breathing.
"Your father frantically tore the bag off and licked you until your ginger fur stood up in spikes, but you refused to respond.
"Blazepelt wasn't doing so well, either. She had stopped coughing, but it seemed that she had stopped taking breaths, either. Whispersong was extremely agitated, for Brightsky had quickly and successfully given birth only a few hours ago, and lay with kits several tail-lengths away, tired from her ordeal but knowing that this other queen's kitting would be even harder. Still, nothing anybody was doing was working. Even StarClan, if they were watching, seemed unable to help. I was frozen, not knowing what aid I could possibly offer. And for the span of a few heartbeats, the three ginger cats in LeafClan were as motionless as death. One breathing. Two not.
"But then you gave a shudder—and then a breath. Whispersong placed you at Blazepelt's side, and all eyes turned to your mother. She did not disappoint: she opened her eyes and rasped, 'Good. It's over.'
"However, she looked in bad condition, and Birchstep did not even wait until his mate closed her eyes and put her head back down on her paws to ask, 'Will Blazepelt be okay?'
"Whispersong sent a quick glance at the tired new queen and answered, 'No.'
"I didn't think I'd ever heard any cry as sorrowful as the one that ripped from Birchstep's throat. I don't think I ever will. Whispersong shushed him fiercely and told him that she hadn't wanted to lie, but she didn't want the news to disturb Blazepelt, either.
"Birchstep dropped his head in defeat and went over to sit by the ginger queen. Only then did the adrenaline and fervor of the moment begin to fade, and one question was brought to mind. 'What's this kit's name?' the gray tom asked, gesturing to you with his tail.
"Blazepelt opened her eyes and looked at you. Hardly a few heartbeats had passed when she spoke. 'This last kit—my kit—shall be named Amberkit, named for her pelt.'
"She'd scarcely uttered the words when she began to cough. It was a vicious sound, crackling through the air like fire. Whispersong looked worried, kneaded her paws into the nursery's ground, and said, 'I'd better move her to the medicine cat's den. '
"'I'll take the kits.' The voice rang out in the nervous silence. It was Brightsky, sitting up in her nest. Her kits mewled their complaints at the sudden movement, and for a moment that was the only sound that came after the light brown queen's declaration.
"'Are you sure?' Whispersong asked, her twitching tail conveying her uncertainty. She glanced at Doveflight, the other queen in the nursery. She had already had a litter and would be more experienced with taking care of kits. But with narrowed eyes, the white queen shook her head no.
"'I can,' Brightsky insisted, and Blazepelt lifted up her head and meowed, 'She can. I trust her.'
"'He's cold!' Birchstep cried when he picked up Ashpaw to move to the light brown queen's nest. So was Lilacpaw.
"'She's warm,' Swallowpaw reported of you, nudging your side with a hesitant paw. 'Almost burning, in fact. But it's not a fever,' she added when Birchstep swung his head around in alarm, Ashpaw crying out in protest.
"'She'll warm the others up, then,' Whispersong said confidently. 'Put her in the middle. Right next to that dark brown tabby one.'
"After every kit had been settled down, Blazepelt stood up to move to the medicine cat's den. Whispersong and your father supported her every step of the way. Swallowpaw stayed behind to clean up, and I watched. When Swallowpaw left, I came over to Brightsky, who was almost asleep.
"'Thank you,' I told her quietly.
"'It's nothing,' she replied. 'Just…tell Blazepelt to get better, okay?'
"I nodded and then turned and walked to the entrance of the nursery. The previous day had started out sunny and ended in a cloudy sky. This night, it was been freezing cold. Frost spiraled up the edges of the den entrance. Frost, at the tail end of newleaf. Who would have thought? That said, I was hesitant to step out.
"'But when I did, it was to the sound of an indignant squeak. It was leafbare and then early greenleaf in the next second, warmth washing over my pelt, replacing the bitter cold. Surprised, I jumped, and then looked around to see if anyone else was outside. Only Breezetail was, sitting by the entrance, and he hadn't seemed to notice anything.
"I poked my head back inside the nursery, wanting to see which kit had made the sound. Brightsky caught my questioning glance and gave a mrrow of laughter. 'That was Amberkit, I think,' she told me. 'Tigerkit kicked her in the side.' Just then, another squeal sounded, and Brightsky looked down, shifting in her nest. 'Amberkit! Stop shoving him. Hey! Tigerkit, no!'
"Seeing that she was busy, I left. I padded through the pleasantly warm night, on my way to deliver a message from Brightsky to Blazepelt. And when I told your mother, she purred weakly and said, 'I will.'
"The next moon, she died.
"It seemed too short a life, too fast a death. It was barely greenleaf, for StarClan's sake. But I can imagine Blazepelt's voice. I know what she would have said. She would have said—she would have said that it was her time."
Mousetail has been staring into the distance for the entire tale. Now, she brings her gaze back to mine, and says two words.
"The end."
I sit, motionless, words and images and faded memories flooding my mind. Did I really want to know this, when I asked that innocent little question?
It's too late now. I can't forget anything, try as I might.
Mousetail sighs, the sound breaking the hushed silence, and for once she looks her age: a tired old she-cat, long past her prime, curled up in her nest and remembering things from moons long ago. "That's that," she says. "Have a good night's sleep, will you?" I'm surprised to find that the sky is dark. Night must have fallen during the story.
She scrapes her paw over the carcass of the bird I brought for her. The rustle of feathers makes me startle; I glance down at the ground where the remains of the fresh-kill lie, almost expecting to see the sparrow fluttering its wings indignantly. But no, it's not alive. It's not moving by itself; that was Mousetail's paw creating the action that brought the sound.
The bird's dead. It will stay dead for eternity.
And so will my mother.
I wake. No dreams. Nothing. No fire, but no images of my mother, either.
I stumble out from the apprentices' den, head spinning with the story I was told yesterday. In fact, I don't even watch where I'm going. It's only inevitable that I walk right into someone, and that happens only a few seconds after I leave the den.
"Oof," the cat says, his voice muffled from my weight on top of him. Tigerpaw.
"Um, sorry," I say. We scramble awkwardly to our paws.
A mrrow of amusement sounds from a few fox-lengths away, and we simultaneously turn our heads to see a smirking Mousetail leaning against the opening of the elders' den. There is no sign of the worn old she-cat I saw yesterday. That's good, I suppose. However, what's she doing now? Trying to make mischief?
I flash a quick glance at Tigerpaw: he merely looks confused. I sigh silently with relief and give a pointed look to my grandmother.
She doesn't budge.
Instead, she whisks her tail and twitches her ears, eying us. Her green gaze is calculating, planning. What is she thinking?
I have to stop this. So, I use the only weapon in my arsenal. "Hey Tigerpaw, did you know that Mousetail's my grandmother?"
His eyes widen with kit-like glee. "Really? You—you mean, your grandfather's Fireblaze?"
I nod my head.
"W-what?" Ashpaw, padding past us, the moss he's been carrying dropping from his mouth as he backpedals and stares at us in astonishment. "Did I hear that right?"
"Yep," Tigerpaw puts in before I can answer. I feel slightly irritated.
"Let's go ask her, then!" Cloudpaw puts in, appearing suddenly.
"What, you think she would lie?" says Ashpaw to her.
"I believe it," puts in Graypaw, poking his head into the conversation.
"So do I," adds Lilacpaw, having overheard the debate.
"Whatever it is, I agree," says Darkpaw, stumbling out of the apprentices' den just in time to hear what my sister said. Everyone laughs.
"Forget apprentice duties!" Graypaw declares, sticking up his tail like a leader might do when commanding his Clan. "Let's go visit Mousetail and beg her for stories!"
Amongst the cheers, Ashpaw says, "Well, I, uh, I was supposed to change the moss of the…"
He falls silent as all eyes turn to him.
"…of the elders' nests," he finishes. "So, I'll come!" He picks up the clump of moss he dropped, ears pricked with excitement.
As expected, Mousetail is no longer in sight when I turn toward the elder den. But she'll be inside, I think, smirking. As we all crowd into the elders' den, a voice rings out.
"What's this? Is CreekClan attacking?"
"No, Treefall, that's the apprentices," another voice replies. A pause, and then, "All of them, it seems."
"What the fox-dung?" the old tom mutters.
"We want a story!" says Graypaw, apparently having delegated himself as our representative. "You should have plenty, as you're Fireblaze's mate! And, you're also Amberpaw's grandmother!"
Mousetail shoots me a pointed glare, and I shrug innocently. She heaves a big sigh and looks down at the crowd of eager apprentices.
"Want to hear about the time the greatest warrior in the forest got beaten by a mere mouse?" she asks, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Yes, yes!"
"No, go away! I want to sleep!" snaps Treefall. "Hey, what are you doing?"
"I'm changing the moss in your nest. Go sit somewhere else for the time being."
"Impudent youngster," says Treefall to Ashpaw. But he looks pleased, and moves to another nest without further complaint.
With a dramatic clearing of the throat, Mousetail begins her story. But I'm not listening to this tale, though I would like to hear it sometime later. Telling everyone that Mousetail's my grandmother was merely a diverting tactic, not an attempt to get the apprentices to shirk their duties and do something they haven't done in moons: listen to a story from an elder.
I've already heard one story this quarter-moon, and it's enough for me.
Since I haven't seen a cat actually give birth and don't know a lot about it, I may have gotten some facts wrong. I tried to do a bit of research, but it didn't really help. :P How much do kits move right after a birth; do any of you know? If I've gotten something wrong or it doesn't seem to work, please tell me in your review. I don't think I wrote this chapter very well, so I would love any concrit that makes it better.
Review? ;3
~Ponyiowa